Tantalized by the fractious limerence of a vestigial habiliment of the old order, we conclude that hypertrophy leads to a limbo where random permutations alloyed by the rickety limits of concatenation subsume concepts that are equivocal but populate the imaginations of newfangled art forms that jostle the midwives of rumination to lead to unique pastures that are intuitively calibrated to correspond to definitive unitary events in conceptual space that sprawl unexpectedly towards the desultory but determinative conclusion of a meandering ludic sphere of rambunctious sentiments cobbled together to either rivet the captive audience or annoy the peevish criticaster when they dare to inseminate the canvassed and corrugated tract of intellectual territory created ad hoc to swelter the imagination with audacious ingenuity that is an inevitable byproduct of lexical hypertrophy. In this séance with the immaterial realm of concept rather than the predictable clockwork reductivism of a perceptual welter that is limited by the concretism circumscribed by spatiotemporal stricture we find that an extravagant twinge of even the smallest tocsin in the interstitial carousel of conscientious subroutines compounding recursively to pinprick the cossetted smolder of potentiality rather than extravagate into the vacancy of untenanted nullibiety can spawn a progeny of utilities and vehicles for dexterous abstraction that poach the exotic concepts we fathom by degrees of sapience malingering in lifeless bricolages of erratic abstraction in manners useful to transcend the repose of abeyance and heave awakening into the slumberous caverns of still-life to make them dynamically animated to capture ephemeral events that defy the demarcations of wistful indelicacy of the encumbered bulk of insufficient precision.

Today we embark on a quest to defile the anoegenetic recapitulation of canon that litters the dilapidated avenues of miserly contemplation that has a histeriological certainty and feeds the engines that enable novelty but ultimately remain rancid with the stench of the idiosyncratic shibboleths of synoptic alloyed impoverishment that leads to the vast wasteland of cremated entropy that is a stained foible of misappropriated context interpolated usefully as botched triage for daunting problems that require a nimble legerdemain of facile versatility that we easily adduce to conquer the present with the botched memorial of a defunct salience. Despite the travail of scholars to retreat from the frontier into the hypostatized hegemony of recycled credentialed information, we often are ensnared by the solemn attrition of decay as we traverse the conceptual underpinnings of all bedrock thought only to dangle precariously near the void of lapsed sentience because of transitory incontinence that is contiguous to the doldrums of crudity but nevertheless with mustered mettle we purport that the very self-serious awakening to our hobbling limitations is akin to a prosthetic enhancement of ratiocination capable of feats that stagger beneath the lowest level of subtext to elevate the highest superordinate categorization into heightened scrutiny that burgeons metacognitive limber. Marooned in the equipoise of specifiable enlightenment countermanded by the strictures of working memory we can orchestrate transverse pathways between the elemental quiddity of impetuous meaning and the dignified tropes of transitivity that bequeaths entire universes with feral progeny that modulate their ecosystems with both a taste of approximated symmetry and a cohesive enterprise for productivity that rests on the granular concordance of the highest plane to the indivisible parcels of atomic meaning that solder together to exist as intelligible if strained by the primordial frictions guaranteed by the brunt of motion incipient because of the metaphorical inertia created within insular universes to inform sprawling conurbations of mobilized thoughts designed to reckon with the breakneck pace of the corresponding reality to which they explicitly and precisely refer to.

We must singe surgically the filigrees that amount to the perceptible realities that transmute temperaments into the liturgy of routine conflated with the rigmarole of neural dragnets of reiterative quips in an elegant game of raillery with our supernal contumacy against the rigid authority of aleatory vagaries mandated by a dually arbitrary universe in a probabilistic terpsichorean dance with the depth of our dredge for subliminal acuity or the shallow bellicosity of common modes of glib contemplation characteristic of the basic nobility of improvisation. This basic interface with the world can either be mercurial or tranquil based on the interactionism of the enfeebled trudge of surface senses or blunt intuitions and the smoldering impact of the vestigial cloaks that deal gingerly with the poignant subtext evoked in the cauldron of immediacy rather than pondered with the portentous weight of imperative singularities of uniqueness derived from the plunge into the arcane citadel of microscopic introspection so refined that the ineffable drives we seek to fathom become amenable to the traipse of transcendental time that rarefies itself by defying the brunt of compartmentalized bureaucracies administered by the fulcrum of stereotypical notions of acquired gravitas imputed to mundane pedestrian quidnunc concerns that defile humanity rather than embolden the subaudition of gritty punctilios that show the supernal powers of the axiomatic divinity of sharpened sentience to reign with supremacy over the baser ignoble components of bletcherous nescience that leads to knee-**** platitudes that provoke folksy peevish divisions. We should rather orchestrate our activity by heeding the admonishment about the primogeniture of poignant sabotage buffered by the remonstration of innate tranquility and finding a whipsawed compromise of rationalization with true visceral encounters with the fulgurant quips of brisk emotions that grind industriously into amorphous retinues of the trenchant human imagination to either equip or hobble the leapfrogged interrogation of veracity and more consequently our notions of truth and fact.

When we see the hackneyed results of default ecological dynamics, we find ourselves aloof from purported transcendence because the whimpered bleats and cavils of the importunate masses result in a deafening din of cacophony because we strive throbbing with sprightliness towards the galloped chase of tantalization without the luxury of a terminus for satiation. Obviously a growth mindset is the galvanic ****** that spawns the imaginative swank of the pliable modulations of our perceived reality that, when protean, showcase the limitless verve of our primordial cacoethes for epigenetic evolution rather than the stolid and staid foreclosure of impervious sloth that memorializes the gluttony of speculation about fixed entities rather than imperative jostling urbanity that dignifies the brackish dance with dearth and the exuberant savory taste of momentary excess because it engages the animated pursuit of limerence rather than the exhumed corpse of wistful regret. Nature is a cyclical clockwork system of predatory instinct met with the clemency of the prosperous providence enacted by the travailing ingenuity of successive cumulative generativities that compounded unevenly and unpredictably to predicate a fundamental zeitgeist calculated to engorge the fattened resources of the resourceful and temper the etiolated dreams of the fringed acquiescence of a hulking prejudiced population of dutiful servants that balk at the diminutive prospects of a lopsided distribution of talent and means but slumber in irenic resolve created by the merciful hands of defensive designs that configure consciousness to relish comparative touchstones rather than absolute outcomes that straggle beyond a point of enviable reference to shield the world of the barbarism of botched laments clamoring for an uncertain grave from the gravity of the orbiting satellites of apportioned wealth both sunblind and boorish but simultaneously inextricable from the acclimated fortune of heaped nepotism and herculean opportunism. The intransigence of the weighted destiny of inequity is a squalid enterprise of primeval abrasive and combative tendencies within the bailiwick of the indignant compass inherent to the system that fathoms its deficiencies with crabwise and gingerly pause but airs a sheepish grievance like a bleat of self-exculpation but simultaneously an arraignment of fundamental attribution erroneously indicted without the selfsame reflexiveness characteristic of a transcendent being with other recourses to clamber an avenue to Broadway without malingering in the slums of opprobrious ineffectual remonstration against the arrangement of a blinkered metropolis of uneven gentrification.

We flicker sometimes between the strategic drivel of appeasement and the candor of audacious imprecation of the culprits of indignity or considerate nutritive encomium of the beacons of ameliorated enlightenment because we often masquerade a half-witted glib consciousness lazily sketched by the welters of verve alloyed with the rancid distaste of squalor and slumber on the faculty of conscientious swivels of prudential expeditions with an avarice for bountiful considered thought and wily contortions of demeanor that issue the affirmative traction of adaptive endeavor to cheat a warped system for a reconciled peace and a refined self-mastery. We need to traduce the urchins that sting the system with pangs of opprobrious ballyhoo and the effluvia of foofaraw that contaminate with pettifoggery and small-minded blather the arenas better suited for the gladiatorial combat of cockalorums tinged with a dose of intellectual effrontery beyond the span of dogmatism rather than the hackneyed platitudes that infest the news cycle with folksy backwardation catered to the fascism of a checkered established press that urges insurrection while tranquilizing dissent against the furtive actions of consequence hidden behind the draped verdure of pretense whose byproduct is only a self-referential sophistry that swarms like an intractable itch to devolve the spectator into a pasquinaded spectacle of profound human obtuseness that pervades malignantly the system of debate until the reductionists outwit themselves with the empty prevarication of circular logic that deliberately misfires to miss the target of true importance because of the pandered black hole easily evaded by creatures of high sentience but inevitably ensnaring the special kind of dupe into a cycle of bellicose ferocity of internecine balkanization. The vainglory of the omphalos of entertainment is also another reckoning because it festers a cultural mythos of glorified crapulence parading a philandered promiscuity with half-baked antics that gravitate attention and the lecheries of gaudy tenses of recycled tinsel alloyed by debased aberrations of seedy grapholagnia that magnetize as they percolate because of the insidious catchphrases embedded in pedestrian syncopation that ignite retention and acclimate to mediocrity the sounds of generations discolored by faint pasty rainbows rather than ennobled by majestic landscapes of ignipotent mellifluous sound that stands a supernal amusement still for the resourceful trainspotter.

Despite the contumely aimed in the direction of contrarians for deviating from the lockstep clockwork hustle of stooped pandered manipulation that peddles the wares of an entirely counterfeit reality, I stand obstinately against the melliferous stupefaction of entire genres of myth and subcultures huddled around the sentimental tug of factitious sophistries regaled by thick amorphous apostates that cherish the vacuous sidetracked spotlight with fervor rather than pausing on the enigmatic querulous inquisition about the penumbras that lurk with strained effort beneath or above the categorical nescience of the shadowy unknown that often coruscates with elegance even in obscurity. I fight with labored words to spawn a psychological discipline that invokes the incisive subaudition of the pluckily pricked exorcism of true insight from the husk of buzzwords that constellate auxiliary tangential distractions from the art form of psychological discernment that predicates itself on the concept that the rarefaction of rumination by degrees of microscopic precision enables the introspective hindsight of conscious events that can be parsed without the acrimony of cluttered conflations of the granular prowess of triumphant ratiocination that earns a panoramic perch with the added luxury of perspicacious insight into the atomic structure of the rudiments of our phenomenological field and the abstractions that linger beyond perceptual categorization. When we analyze the gradients of anger, for example, we can either be ****** into a brooded twinge of wistful resentment or we can decipher that through heuristics designed to cloister the provenance of subconscious repose with ignorance there exists a regimented array of tangential accessories embedded deep within the cavernous repository of memory that designates a cumulative trace of compounded symmetries of concordant experience immediately perceptible because of the tangible provocateur of our gripes and the largely subliminal tusk that protrudes because of primal instinct that squirms with peevishness because of the momentary context preceded by the desultory churn of smoldering associations swimming with either complete intangible sputtered mobility through the tract of subconscious hyperspace or rigidly fixated by an arraignment of circumstances with propinquity to the deep unfathomed flicker of bygones receding or protruding because of the warped and largely unpredictable rigmarole of constellated spreading activation.  
When we examine the largesse of the swift recourse of convenience we forget by degrees the travail that once bridged the span of experience from patient abeyance in provident pursuit to now the importunate glare of inflated expectations for immediacy that stings the whole enterprise of societal dynamics because it vitiates us with a complacency for the filigrees of momentary tinsel of a virtualized reality divorced from the concretism that used to undergird interaction and now stands outmoded as a wisp beyond outstretched hands straggling beyond the black mirror of a newfangled narcissistic clannishness that shepherds the ostentation of conceit to a predominant position that swaddles us with fretful diversion that operates on a warped logic of lurid squalor and pasty trends becoming the mainstays of a hypercritical linguistic system of entrapment based on the apostasy of candor for the propitiation of fringed aberration because of the majoritarian uproar about touchy butthurt pedantic criticasters with a penchant for persnickety structuralism. With the infestation of entertainment with the ubiquitous political cavils engineered by the ruling class to have a common arena of waggish irreverence we forget that sometimes the impetuous ****** of propaganda is cloaked by the fashionable implements of a rootless time writhing in a purported identity crisis only to gawk at the ungainly reflection of modernity in the mirror and remain blissfully unaware about the transmogrified cultural psyche that feeds the lunacy of endless spectacle based on the premise that one singular whipping post can unite an entire generation of miscegenated misfits looking for commonality to team up against the aging generations that cling to the sanctity of cherished jingoism against the intentionality of a revamped system that malingers with empty promises using exigency and legerdemain to obscure the mooncalves among their ranks that march on with quixotic dreams that tolerate only the idea of absolute tolerance and moderate only when feasibly permitted by the anchored negotiation of the fulcrum of totemic governmental responsibility between factions that wage volleys of invective at each other to promote a binary choice of vitiated compromises of mendaciloquence that ultimately endanger the republic with either the perils of hidebound conventionalism and nativist fervor or the boondoggles of fiscally irresponsible insanity cloaked with rainbows and participation trophies. Reproach can be distributed to both sides of the aisle because ironically in a world where gender is non-binary the most important reproductive ***** in the free world is a binary-by-default despotism that polarizes extremely ludic fantasies on the left met with the acrimony of the traditionalisms on the right that staunchly resist the fatuous confusions of delegated order only to the sharp rebuke of the revamped political vogue that owes its sustenance to a manufactured diplomacy of saccharine lies and ubiquitous lampoons that are lopsided in the direction of a globalist neoliberal bricolage of moderately popular buzzwords and the trojan horse of insubordinate flippant feminism that seeks to subvert through backhanded manipulation the patriarchy so many resent using lowbrow tactics and poignant case studies rather than legislating the egalitarian system into law using the proper channels. I myself am a political independent who sides with fiscal conservatism but libertarianism in most other affairs because the pettifoggery of law-and-order politics is a diatribe overused by sheltered suburbanites and red meat is often just as fatuous as blue tinsel and sadly in a majoritarian society the ushers of conformity demand corporate divestiture in favor of an ecological system of predictability rather than an opinionated welter of legitimate challenges to a broken system of backwards partisanship and wangled consent. Ultimately, I remain mostly apolitical, but I am a fervent champion of the mobilization of education to a statelier standard that demands rigor and responsibility rather than the chafe of rigmarole that understates the common objectives of humanity and rewards conventional thinking and nominal participation to earn credentialed pedigree when the bulk of talent resides elsewhere.

I've been blocked
well an good
by some obtuse
butthurt mindfuck

cant believe my luck!

but please unblock me
long enough
to delete your unread
message (so I can clean
up your verbal Diarrhea)

It's annoying
to me
as its messing up
the aesthetics
of my screen

You don’t like being touched so we don’t hug. Hugging is weird. Affection is weird but you’ll send me pick up lines like you’re a guy at the bar and I’m the girl you’re trying to take home for the night. People tell us we should just get married ‘cause I know I’ll never find someone who will treat me right like you do. We’d be lesbians, except you’re on the hunt for tail and I’m not into you like that.

When you were 11 and I was 13, people used to think we were sisters because we looked alike. I used to think you were kind of weird (but I think over the years it’s gotten worse) and now your weirdness just adds to your charm. I’m not sure what I was thinking the first 3 or 4 years of our friendship when I decided that there were other people who were more important than you, but I’m glad I learned my lesson. There’s only one person in this world who will sit in my car with me for 10 minutes while I cry and bring me eyeliner without a question and that’s you.

We’re not the inseparable set of friends where we have to go everywhere with each other, be everywhere with each other and be attached to the hip because God knows we’d be so sick of each other by the end of the day but I’m glad we’re the kind to be real with each other and not be butthurt. If you tell me I look fat in something, I’ll tell you that you look worse. We call each other names but we’ll still stay married on Facebook. We talk once, maybe twice a day but we (almost) always pick up each other’s phone calls when needed because sometimes I just need to hear the comfort of your voice. We’re a long distance relationship without the miss-you ***.

I’m not sure how often I tell you this but here it is again: i love you and I’m glad you’re in my life. I don’t like calling people my best friend because it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth but you’re my best friend and it took me nearly 8 years now to have it finally hit because when I’m crying, when my heart is broken, when I’m stressed out, or when I have some really great news, you’re the first to hear it. And probably the greatest part is that I’m not anything less with you.

You’re the kinda chick where you ogle numbers and numbers of guys on end but is too shy to actually say anything because contrary to what everyone else thinks, I know all you want is to be loved for who you are and one day, you’ll find someone who will do that for you. And until then, I’ll fill in his space the best I can (mostly because I’m missing a pretty vital ***** otherwise we’d be mates for life). Sometimes you can be steadfastly cool. Sometimes I’m embarrassed to be seen in public with you. But most of the time it’s both and it’s what makes being with you different from being around anyone else.

Aside from this weird burst of affection I have for you, you’re probably off somewhere getting drunk off your *** and you’ll be texting me the next day telling me how drunk you were last night and I’ll laugh because you’re an alcoholic in the making and that’s just the kind of people we are with each other. It’s just nice to have someone who’s been there through the good, the bad, and the ugly and still be able to call my friend. We don’t judge each other even though you have more dirt on me than my own parents do.

Once gay marriage becomes legal in Texas, I know we’re gonna get hitched and raise some dope lookin’ children while we sit in Jin’s Korean bbq and scrounge for babes and convince them to date us.

Well I don't know if you saw me and passed on Coffee Meets Bagel a few days ago or not, but you look pretty adorable and sound interesting too, so I wanted to say hi either way! 4 weeks in Ireland sounds pretty great too - was that for work, or some other opportunity?

If you had to pick between only skiing or snowboarding for the rest of your life, which would you choose?

Hey! I do web work too...what do you do for the sports coverage website? No workaholism here haha, but I do work hard.

Where do you like to get ****** up on a Friday night?

Love the uggs on the one male stripper. Gotta get myself a pair.

Aww, you and your pup look like super good cuddle buddies. It's really hard to pick something to watch on Netflix...or Amazon Prime in my case. Watching anything good now?

What is there to get butthurt about on your profile really? Except for short guys, maybe. Oh, and gamers. I play games sometimes, but not excessively. What's the cooper tires thing you did?

6 pounds is tiny! What kind of dog is he, a yorkie or something?

Hey, hope you're having a good weekend. Kinda feels like a golf day today based on the way this last week has felt ha. Do you play a lot?

Hey, how are you liking the city and school so far? I went to an engineering school not too far away, you might have heard of it - ...

Sometimes it's hard to sum up our IT jobs in a few words, but nice job ha. A constant challenge and learning something new every day is what I like about mine!

Not choosing butthurt
Not
Choooo-ooooosing
Butthurt

Not choosing it
Not doin' it
Nope
Un-unh

Not choosing butthurt
Again
Still
Finally I'm laughing

Not choosing all the stupids
In a funny way
Seems to staunch
the flow of stupid thinking

Please join me
in amusement
at my willingness
to steep myself

in negative emotion
because
because
because

Because
of the relieving
things
this does


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I'm writing this now as I don't think I can continue much longer.
All the things that made me happy growing up are becoming pinpoint memories, stabbing at the feeling my life has become meaningless.

I remember my sixth, or seventh birthday.
When all my six or seven year old friends came over to play at one of the only non-million dollar houses Kirkland Washington had left.
I had a Thomas the Engine Tanker cake and we took the Oreo wheels and threw them around and over trees.
My next door neighbor was my best friend and we would always have something fun to do.

I remember accidently stepping on my grandfather's new shoes and leaving a smudge on his new shoes.
So he thought it was fair to pick me up by foot and spank me while I dangle from his grip.
He's dead now, and I could care less as I was never allowed alone around him after that.

I remember the first time I decided school wasn't worth it.
I was given a choice to join honors in fifth grade but turned it down as i was told the extra homework would interfere with my precious video games.
I don't even remember what games I played back then.
Roller Coaster Tycoon and Age of Empires Two I suppose.

At that time I wasn't thinking about my future or what I should grow up and become.

I miss high school and I wish I could live it on repeat.
Back when I was wild, free and possibly ADHD, I still don't know if that is a real thing.
I remember band class, everyone would always expect me to harass the teacher or make an idiot of myself for a joke.
And I didn't care if I looked like an idiot.
I obviously didn't care if I was the idiot as my grades were always poor but never shackled me down in stress.
Only my parents did that.

I remember Giles Stanton, my Senior English teacher, who looked at me with mild boredom and said, "The real world will eat you alive."
That still haunts me to do this day as I always thought he was the coolest teacher there.
But it was just a joke, I shouldn't get butthurt.

At that time I wasn't thinking about my future or what I should grow up and become.

I remember going to community college and it all changed.
My careless, free spirited attitude was no longer praised or loved but rather chastised and questioned.
For I was at college and it was time to act like an adult.
But I still loved it, studying music theory and playing music.
Excited as I was about to start working on my first album.
The dreams of being a rockstar, or maybe just a folkstar were in my brain and I couldn't give them up.
All I cared about was music and video games.
All other general education classes couldn't hold my attention, even after the third time I took them I couldn't pass.

After two years and my first two attempts on my life I went to go see a therapist.
It was the usual for most people my age, some form of ADD and depression.
I was going to do it with a pen, push it deep into my throat and drag it across my neck.
A pen was all I could find.

At that time I wasn't thinking about my future, only that I wanted to make music and nothing else.

After sometime I went back to college and everything was different.
My brain was slightly comatose on Zoloft and some sort of ADHD med.
I could concentrate, but the harder I did, the more it came into being that I was no longer me anymore.
Some bag of bones carrying around a dying child inside.
I was tamed.
My only release was music, which I guess had gotten better now that my mind could focus even more.

I still never got my two year degree.
Only student loans.
With all those meds I still couldn't finish school.

I wasn't thinking about my future, only that I wanted to be a musician and thought I had a real chance.

And now I live with roommates in Seattle.
Breaking my back lifting boxes at UPS while trying to figure out my second job.
Probably only to need a third job.
All I do while I work is day dream about when I was younger and still had a chance to attack life and own it.
Now I merely walk through it with an open wound that I'm scrambling to sew shut.

I'm thinking about my future now, and I honestly can't say that I'll have one for much longer.

a couple of words to convey ta
scurvy dictators
being, with their regimes, dirt on the face of
civilization; lyrics that may be referred to as hate speech
sorry, sans names since
you, hinderlings, tend to get sore 'kin/sim. to nates
of someone earned a good lacing (butthurt)
fO̲r misbehaving (just like y'all)
hopefully, y'all will end up burning in flames of
eternal damnation
for every singular person paraded
civilly through streets in support of good changes
and been delivered brute force in repayment
prisoners tortured, false statements
a sort of a lake of
disinformation, wars, liquidations
of those subverting a heinous
course undertaken
of course, fabrications
fO̲r legal cases (and elections, of course)
and nowadays, you've got Y̲O̲U̲r pesky agents
working on breaking
the web like Bourne which is Jason (Webb, David)
here come my warm salutations
to that stupid web regulator
that serves the dang Craymlin (got it?)
like your walking 𝓉ℴ𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓉ℯ brush, take a
[another sobriquet fitting the rhyme scheme: "toilet predator"]
hike; Y̲O̲U̲r limitations
hitting media being insubmissive ta
the sick regime which ya
sustain by dint of digital
censorship, to individuals
with views being similar
to mine, are like pork to unwave[–]ring
[the word's supposed to be read/pronounced as "unweyvring"]
Muslims; in other words, we evade 'em
(what are you gonna do about it?)
(back to dictators)
you're, like a vessel transporting blood, vain &
like someone implementing a mercy ask, craven
[vein; craving]
you're worthless like an ****** absorbed medication
to you procured a gunshot gorge perforation
as you may've gathered, as if you were **** plantation
employees, you, opportunists, sure irritate me
minus tooled up guys in uniforms & you're Swayze
some of those going politicians or power-wielders
are already bY̲ then vile people?
[Biden]
not the type to think so
that's humankind's horrible nature
highly evolved, still beasts, though
so Earth's, in a way, a
huge lair; got a shade sidetracked
like a train, my bad
I'ma explain, like that
Malaysian Boeing Ukraine skies'd had (ex-plane)
[had had]
before it got razed 'kin/sim.
to the outrage of folks storming a place which
a c#cks#cking usurper is based in
[raised]
the earlier stated
"BIFOED"; once you are no more animated
like a cartoon paused, the verdict is plain 'kin/sim.
to a suit that is mourning-related
a torrid vacation, metaphorically saying
yet no point in packing Y̲O̲U̲r freaking raiment
since Y̲O̲U̲r destination's
[sins]
nothing short of pure Hades (if there is)
though (unlike some of you) I'm irreligious, but
it doesn't mean I'm cold to medieval stuff
like a hedonistic brush
with a chick replete with lust
in this realm, there can be a really hot
time for you; akin to witches stuck
to those stakes, you can wi[ɪ]nd up lit as f#ck
like after a cig. with **** you are
in the garden of the post-en–
–lightenment time going
[thyme]
which, in fact, is the reason the
Earth territory's in need of getting rid of ya